


Day 10: Doggy Style

by Alyssa_85



Series: 30 Day NSFW Challenge [10]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Spain, Doggy Style, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Kinda, M/M, Rough Sex, Top England (Hetalia)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-10
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2018-09-16 13:55:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9274913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyssa_85/pseuds/Alyssa_85
Summary: England and Spain doggy style it up.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I realised, while writing this, I seem to write a lot of Spain cheating on Roma, I really don’t know why to be honest, considering SpaMano is my OTP, I just really like writing Spain as a total arsehole. 
> 
> Also, I have no idea if what England did was even possible in this position, but I didn’t really fancy doing research on it, so just go with it.

Really, Spain should have expected it. Any time he and England went out alone, they ended up in either of their beds. Though, what Spain hadn’t expected, was to be on his hands and knees, back arched and arse pushed into the air, whilst completely sober. Spain could feel England’s fingers moving inside him, stretching him, and his breath on the back of his neck.

“Are you ready?” England asked, surprisingly gentle.

“Yeah.” Spain pushed his arse out further, shaking it. “Fuck me, eyebrows.”

“Insufferable,” England muttered, gripping Spain’s hips. “How badly do you want this, Antonio?” England dragged his lube covered cock down Spain’s crack.

“Badly, oh God, please.” Spain thrusted against England. “Please, Arthur!”

“As you asked so nicely.” Without another word, England pushed into him, fully sheathing himself in Spain’s tight heat. “Always so tight,” England said, holding himself still. “You’re not often on the receiving side of things, are you?”

Spain shook his head. “Roma doesn’t like topping.”

England slapped his hand down on Spain’s arse cheek. “No talking about your boyfriend while my dick is in you, makes me feel bad.”

“Move, please,” Spain begged, ignoring England’s comment. “Hard and fast, like always.”

“And what if I don’t?” England teased, trailing his fingers over Spain’s spine, causing the Spaniard to shiver involuntarily.

“I’ll tell _your_ boyfriend just how ungiving you are in bed, I’m sure that’s news Alfred would just love to receive.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Arthur growled, pulling almost entirely out. “If you did that, a certain Italian may just find out, and you wouldn’t want that, right?”

Antonio whined, pushing back against Arthur. “ _Please_ , Arthur.”

“Fine, I suppose I can give you what you want, wanker,” Arthur said, slamming back into Antonio. Spain cried out, leaning his head down on his forearms, and moaning wantonly into his tan skin. He pushed back with each thrust, Arthur’s cock slamming into his prostate with every push.

Arthur gripped Antonio’s hips tightly, leaving white fingerprints in his skin. His pace was sloppy, as it always was with Antonio, a few seconds of harsh thrusts, just to slow it down again. England loved to hear Spain beg for it, hips moving against him, voice cracked from screaming unintelligible phrases in a mix of English and Spanish.

“Tell me how you want it, Antonio.”

“Harder,” he cried. Antonio’s senses were all over the place, with the pleasure of Arthur slamming into him from behind and the feeling of his nipples rubbings against his silk bedsheets, he was losing focus on the world around him, all he could think of was the intense pleasure that he couldn’t get from anyone else.

“Is that all you want?”

“Oh God, please, harder.”

“As you wish.” Arthur harshly slammed himself into Antonio, his cock hitting his prostate straight on. Antonio whimpered, his legs shaking, and back hurting from arching it for so long.

“I’m close,” Antonio said, voice sounding almost broken.

“Me too,” England choked out, shifting his position slightly, so he could lean over Spain’s back and press light kisses to his shoulders in complete contrast to his harsh thrusts.

Antonio moaned lowly in his throat, muttering what England could only assume were Spanish curses. Arthur’s thrusts became even sloppier as he neared orgasm.

“Cum with me, Tonio,” he whispered, nibbling on Antonio’s ear, and fisting a hand around Antonio’s flushed, and leaking cock. Antonio just nodded, tilting his head to give Arthur more access.

It only took a few more frenzied thrusts for them both to cum, Antonio moaning something, and body shaking as he came hard. Antonio’s breathing was heavy, his whole body aching from the position. As soon as England had pulled out, Antonio tiredly collapsed down, ignoring the sticky cum underneath him, and dripping out of him.

It was silent for a moment, the only sounds of their heavy breathing. Antonio was drifting off, when England finally opened his mouth.

“Te amo? Doesn’t that mean…”

Antonio’s eyes widened, turning his head to face where England was kneeling beside him. “I…”

“Me too.” Was all Arthur said, smiling softly at the Spaniard. “We should get cleaned up.”

“Can we just stay here for a little longer? ‘M tired.”

“I’ll go run you a bath, okay? Would you like some water?”

Antonio nodded, eyes fluttering closed.

“Tonio?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m going to shift you over, okay? You’re currently lying in semen, I can’t imagine that’s comfortable.”

Antonio just mumbled noncommittedly, lifting his arms up as if asking for a cuddle.

Arthur returned ten minutes later, glass of water in hand. “Are you awake, Spain?”

“’M awake,” he replied, sitting up, wincing as pain shot through his back.

“I’ve run a bath for you.”

“Gracias.”

England helped Spain out of the bed, and led him to the bathroom. He deposited the Spaniard into the warm water, watching as his body instantly relaxed.

“Aren’t you coming in?” Spain asked, pout prominent on his face.

“I’m going to change your duvet.”

“Don’t worry about it, I have a spare room.”

“But-“

“England, no, Arthur, come in here.” Antonio patted the water, bubbles shifting and popping under his hand.

England sighed. “Fine, but close your eyes.”

“Close my eyes?”

“While I…” England’s cheeks heated up. “Just look away, wanker!”

Spain chuckled, closing his eyes. “I’ve seen every part of you, Arthur, what could you possibly be bashful about?”

“Shut up,” England said, slipping into the water behind Spain, and hesitantly wrapping his arms around his waist.

“We’ve never done this,” Spain mumbled, leaning back against England’s chest, his head resting on his shoulder. “You usually leave as soon as we finish.”

“I can leave. I’m only staying for me.”

“You sound like Roma.” Spain breathed out heavily, letting his eyes flutter shut. “Did you mean it?”

“Mean it?”

“You said ‘me too’.”

“Oh.” England pressed a kiss to Spain’s temple. “I did. I love you, Antonio.”

“We’re awful people, aren’t we?”

“Perhaps.” Arthur lightly bopped Antonio’s nose. “Don’t think about it too much, you’ll hurt your brain.”

“What happens now?”

“Let’s just figure it out as we go.”

“But I don’t want to hurt Romano, Arthur.”

“The damage is already done. It’s not like this is the first time we’ve slept together, Tonio.”

“We were drunk the other times though.”

“That doesn’t make it any better.”

“You can’t be held accountable for things you do drunk.”

“That’s just ridiculous, Antonio. You absolutely can be held accountable. You can’t get away with something just because you were drunk when you did it.”

Antonio sighed. “I know, I know. I guess I’ve just always been convincing myself what we were doing was fine because we were drunk.”

“Do you regret it?” England’s voice was low, almost hesitant in his words.

“No.” His answer was firm, no room for hesitation, or lies. “I don’t regret any of it.”

“I’m glad.”

Spain yawned loudly, stretching out in the water like a cat.

“Let’s get you to bed.”

When out of the water, England wrapped a large, fluffy towel around Spain’s shoulders, and one around his own body. They left the bathroom together, making their way through the long corridors until they made it to one of Spain’s many spare bedrooms.

“There’s some spare clothes in the drawers,” Spain said, sitting down on the bed. “You can borrow a shirt, and some underwear if you want to stay over.”

England blushed, glad his had his back to the Spaniard. “Okay.”

Once they were both dressed, they settled under the plain white duvet, England’s arms holding Spain close.

“Goodnight, wanker.”

“Buenos noches, Arthur.”


End file.
